


Shadows spilling

by RahDamon



Series: KaneKane Week Collection [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RahDamon/pseuds/RahDamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nightmare wakes Shiro and he finds Ken underneath him, the tangy smell of blood rising the hunger inside of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> My first entry for KaneKane Week. These will be a few drabbles, most likely not connected to each other ( oh and two prompts have been drawn by me so this 'series' will probably only have five drabbles)

Shadows twisted and warped everything until the floor was tiled in black and white when not covered by the spreading lake of burning blood and the cracks in the walls were filled with faces screaming silently in agony.

 

Struggling against his shackles Shiro sobbed as his feet were dissolved by the blood like acid and as the screaming turned to white noise or rather the screeching razor of thousand things crawling their way through his brain. He absolutely refused to name the things as he whimpered.

 

Shaking. Sheltered. Seeking a way to get out.

 

Somehow even his Kagune was restrained, hot and tight inside of his body, unable to rip his skin open and emerge to defend himself and two pairs of eyes surveyed him hungrily as the blood moved up taking his flesh and erasing him bit by bit. They were laughing and jeering.

 

Saying it was just a matter of time, join us Kaneki Ken, no, you are Kaneki Shiro now, or just Shiro? It doesn’t matter in the end now does it he had to still endure them no matter his name or identity and they were still laughing as the darkness lengthened until it veiled them and crawled forwards. If the darkness reached him he’d never escape, never, never, never.

 

“Shiro!”

 

And there was a rip and tear in the fabric of space and when he opened his eyes Shiro’s nose registered blood before his eyes accepted that Ken was underneath him one of his Kagune limbs having speared him through the shoulder and one through his thigh.

 

And he choked up his mind freezing up as he realized what he had done, and then came the hunger as Shiro felt the sliding motion of blood against his Kagune and the sweet-spicy scent of Ken’s blood put him into a state of “Craving”, of “Wanting”, of “Needing”.

 

“Are you ok, Shiro? You were whimpering.”

 

Shiro snapped out of his daze and held his breath. Ken’s eyes - silvery, moon-spelled in the night - shone with worry and concern - concern for Shiro and worry for Shiro when it was Ken who was nailed to the floor and bleeding, bleeding out surely until there was a lake of blood and Shiro wouldn’t know what to do.

 

He threw himself away into the corner of their shared bedroom dislodging his four extra-limbs from Ken frantically and despised the pained gasp erupting from the human’s throat. ( He was so stupid he could have called his Kagune back instead of ripping it out - that way he could have avoided hurting Ken even more than he already had.)

A litany of “I’m sorry” spilled from Shiro’s lips over and over again but Ken stayed silent and eventually heaved himself up limping from the room with quiet grunts. Left behind was Shiro and he closed his eyes whimpering, weeping, rocking himself against the wall and cracking his fingers to drown out the cracks in his heart.

 

“You can stop apologizing now, Shiro. I forgive you. I always will, you know.”

 

Gentle hands untangled him from the ball he had become and he let them. A cup of steaming black coffee was pressed into his hands - Shiro hadn’t even noticed the sound of the coffee machine in his distress - and Ken settled down next to him wrapping them both into a dark quilt.

 

Absently Shiro sipped on the coffee - Ken got better at making coffee - not looking up or at Ken but when his cup was empty Ken took it out of his hands and pulling Shiro’s head to his chest directly over his heart - his still pumping heart which had veins with rushing blood in them, in them not dripping out of Ken, living, Ken was alive.

  
And this was the way they stayed for the rest of the night Shiro clinging to Ken like a newborn child wanting to know it lived and everything was real.


	2. Domesticity

Ken was humming and it was distracting!

 

Shiro tried hard, so hard, to concentrate on his book - something distinctly not Takatsuki Sen - but Ken made it utterly impossible.

 

Because Ken was cleaning. While humming and bending down a lot to pick up this or that book the shirt riding up high enough for Shiro to catch a glance of Ken's ass crack.

 

And Ken bend down and stood up to put a book back into a shelf for each single book instead of just picking up a bunch of them and sorting them then.

 

( Not even a bit helpful was the fact that Ken was wearing one of the pants Hide had gifted him with; a very tight pair following the curves of his legs and ass very accurately, almost like a second skin.)

 

If Shiro didn't know that Ken was an oblivious, naive idiot he'd assume the human was doing it on purpose, arousing him, that is.

 

He suffered two entire hours through that kind of torture - skin was revealed bit by bit, tantalizingly slow, and then abruptly covered again, rinse and repeat - wondering dimly how the fuck they had managed to cover their living room in so many stray books until he couldn't take it anymore.

 

It barely took him thirty seconds to slide from the couch,  throw the book he hadn't even read onto the ground, watch Ken's mouth open in indignation, thrust a tongue into that open mouth, throw a dazed Ken over his shoulder and march into their bedroom.

 

Hours later with Ken sleeping satisfied among soiled sheets - Shiro had to suppress an horrified shudder - he thought nothing about throwing a look into Ken's phone as it pinged.

 

A message from Hide greeted him from the screen.

 

_Hey, man, did acting all domesticily or whatever work out for you and he let you back into your bed? *insert eye wriggle here* If yes you owe me sooo much! - Cya, Hide_

Shiro's lips curled over his teeth and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

 

So sorting books and teasing him counted as domestic action?

 

On second thought Shiro agreed that it did.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha so ... I decided to try and do something for each of the day's prompts. Fuck me.


	3. Bittersweet Memories

Staring at walls with blank eyes was becoming a nasty habit, Shiro cynically thought belying his own thoughts.

 

Again, he had done it again.

 

Nightmares were the norm for him but they had lessened since Ken moved into his bed warming him and enveloping him in his weak arms that usually managed to chase away the worst dreams.

 

Shiro hated thinking back to that first time Ken caught him after or during a nightmare or how he had injured Ken. ( Even though the scars in his shoulder and thigh never let Shiro forget but over the last few months the striking pain had left his thoughts.)

 

But he also loved thinking back to the aftermath despite being terrified at that time believing this to be the final straw and Ken hating him. Because Ken had said he'd always forgive him and spent hours besides him just holding on. And before they stood up and faced reality again Ken had buried his head into his white hair and mumbled the words 'I love you so much' against his skin.

 

So that memory was very much bittersweet.

 

Yet he hadn't wanted an encore performance of that show.

 

Yet it happened and this time Ken had to be carried away by an ambulance and he'd had to call in Hide who had thrown such a look of rage towards him that he cowered.

 

How funny, an S-Rank Ghoul cowering in front of a weak human.

 

He didn't find anything funny waiting outside of white walls and waiting for the red sign to stop flashing and doctors to bring positive news.

 

Shiro didn't want the last few months to become bittersweet memories.

 

Sweet because he had gained love ( it didn't matter if it was with an alternative version of himself).

 

Bitter because he had lost love ( through his own goddamn fault and due to his fucked up mind and reflexes).

  
The red sign stopped flashing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup this is the end. Very open.


End file.
